


Reunions With a Ghost

by carolinecrane



Series: Aftermath [28]
Category: The Brotherhood 2: Young Warlocks (2001)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-05
Updated: 2011-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:04:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can only run so far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunions With a Ghost

He takes the stairs to his office two at a time, stopping just outside the door to grab two days' worth of mail. And granted, it's not much of an office; he still does most of his coding at home, but now that "Demon Hunt" is a success he can't get away with not having some kind of office anymore. At the very least he needs a secretary a few hours a week, just to take messages and run interference with companies like Sony and Nintendo.

It's still kind of weird to think that companies he's actually heard of are calling for _him_ , because he doesn't feel any different. When he looks in the mirror he's still the same guy; a little older and a little less naïve, but he feels like the same old Marcus.

He knows that's not true. He's been through a lot in the past six years, since he left Chandler and everything he knew behind and started over with nothing. He's not the same scared kid he was back then – and okay, maybe he still catches himself looking over his shoulder every once in awhile, but he's not scared anymore. Most of the time he can even convince himself that there's no reason to keep looking, that it's been six years and Luc or whatever that thing's real name was is long gone.

There hasn't been any sign in over five years, and most of the time Marcus can believe that it's really over. That doesn't stop him from casting one last glance over his shoulder as he pushes open the door to his office, though, swallowing a relieved sigh when he finds the stairwell still empty. And he'd laugh at himself for being so paranoid, but his secretary's already talking to him.

"…told him you probably wouldn't be by until late, but he wouldn't leave."

Marcus blinks and forces himself to focus on the sound of her voice, shoving the memories of Luc and his last year at Chandler as far back in his mind as they'll go. "What?"

"There's someone here to see you," she says again, her tone telling him that she's finally getting used to having to repeat herself. "He's waiting in your office."

"Who is it?"

She shrugs and reaches for the mail he hands her. "Beats me. I thought he was another one of those executive types, but he says he's an old friend of yours. Kinda cute, too."

This time she grins at him, but he's too busy fighting back a wave of panic to be annoyed. It isn't Matt, and it can't be John, which doesn't leave much choice when it comes to 'old friends'. Maybe somebody from Chicago, but he's still in touch with most of them, and they would have called before they just showed up out of the blue.

There's a part of him that's tempted to bolt, to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. But if it is Luc waiting for him behind that door, he knows running won't do him any good. It's still tempting, but instead he forces himself forward, pausing when he reaches the door to the inner office and glancing back at his secretary. He feels like he should say something, but he has no idea what. 'Hold my calls' doesn't really cover it, and he's pretty sure he couldn't explain what he means by 'if I don't make it out of this meeting alive'. Instead he shakes his head at himself and reaches for the doorknob, turning it slowly and pushing the door open to find himself face to face with the last person he ever thought he'd see again.

"Hey, Marcus."

He feels his knees buckle and grips the door hard, knuckles aching with the effort to keep himself upright. That voice – he never thought he'd hear it again, never thought he'd see that smirk and he definitely never expected to find Harlan Ratcliff sitting across from his cheap desk in an expensive-looking business suit.

But Marcus is pretty sure he's not hallucinating, and unless this is all some elaborate demonic plot to get him to drop his guard, Harlan's really here. Sitting in his office looking like he belongs there, more handsome even than Marcus remembered, and that he definitely didn't think was possible.

"Harlan? How…?"

"Saw the article in _Entrepreneur_ ," Harlan answers, leaning back in his chair and watching Marcus force his feet to carry him the short distance to his desk. He sinks into his chair to look at Harlan, and at eye level he looks even better. "Looks like you've done pretty well for yourself."

Marcus shrugs, glancing out the window to avoid Harlan's steady gaze. He's done a few interviews since his game made a splash in the market, and there was a part of him that kind of hoped…but he never let himself believe this would happen. Six years is a long time, after all, and he's been telling himself since he left without a word that if Harlan even remembered him, he wouldn't want to see him again. "Mostly I just got lucky."

"I know the business, Marcus. It takes more than luck," Harlan says, and Marcus can hear the smile in his voice. Before he can stop himself he glances over, heart skipping a beat when he finds Harlan still watching him. "In fact, you're just the kind of start-up we look for. We could help you go places."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about a merger. Well, more like an acquisition, in your case. But it would free you up to work on your games and let my company run the business end of things."

It's not the first time he's heard this speech. He's gotten calls pretty steadily for the past year, so he shouldn't be surprised that that's the reason Harlan's here. He knew Harlan's father was in acquisitions, and he knew Harlan was planning to go into the family business. Still, he couldn't help hoping…but he knew better, and he manages to swallow a disappointed sigh as he shakes his head.

"That's why you came all this way?"

"It's not that far," Harlan reminds him, smile shifting to something Marcus can't quite put his finger on. "All this time I figured you were on the other side of the country somewhere, and it turns out you've only been an hour away. For awhile I thought maybe you were dead."

Marcus swallows the urge to tell Harlan that for awhile he thought the same thing. Then there was the time he spent wishing he was, and after that it was too late to try to put things back together. At least he thought it was.

"I wasn't," Marcus says, voice cracking a little and he clears his throat before he tries again. "I mean I was in Chicago for awhile. I just moved back to California last year."

"Chicago," Harlan repeats, rolling the word around on his tongue and Marcus fights the urge to close his eyes at the memory of what that tongue can do. He doesn't let himself think about it much, but when he does he can't help regretting his decision to leave. He still remembers why he left, and he knows at the time it seemed like the best choice, but that doesn't make him regret it any less. "So what was so important in Chicago that you had to blow me off without so much as a goodbye?"

Marcus winces at the sound of Harlan's voice, gaze fixed on the perfect knot in Harlan's expensive tie as he answers. "It's a long story."

He knows that's not good enough, but there's no way he can explain the past six years to Harlan. Not without telling him the truth, and he's pretty sure Harlan wouldn't believe him even if he did. Besides, it doesn't matter anymore, at least that's what he tells himself whenever he finds himself thinking about it.

"I've got time." He looks up to find Harlan still watching him, expression determined and it's been a long time, but Marcus remembers that look. Remembers just how stubborn Harlan is, and he catches himself smiling at the memory. Harlan grins back at him, just a little smug and Marcus remembers that too. "Tell you what, let me buy you dinner and you can tell me all about it. Then I'll give you the sales pitch so I can write it off as a business expense."

Marcus is pretty sure this is a bad idea. For him, anyway, because Harlan might just want to take a walk down memory lane over a couple beers, but for Marcus it's a lot more than that. It doesn't help that he still thinks about Harlan a lot more than he'd ever admit, compares every guy he dates to him and wonders what would have happened if he'd stayed that summer. "I don't…"

"Come on," Harlan interrupts, grinning again and Marcus knows he's not going to take no for an answer. "It's the least you can do, Marcus. You blew my plans for that whole summer."

He's got a point, and judging by his smug expression he knows it. Marcus knows he's going to regret it, knows he should make up some excuse about why he can't go out with Harlan tonight or any other night. The problem is that part of him _wants_ to go, and before he can stop himself he's nodding his head. "Yeah. Okay."

"Great," Harlan says, standing up and yeah, the past six years have treated him well. He scribbles down the name of a hotel on the back of a business card and hands it over, fingers just brushing Marcus' as he takes it and he can't decide whether or not it's on purpose. "Meet me there at seven. Don't be late."

A second later he's gone, and Marcus isn't sure whether to be nervous or annoyed. It's been a long time, but it's still the same old Harlan, and he still knows exactly what buttons to push. Marcus lets out a sigh and looks at the card in his hand, working hard not to remember the way Harlan's fingers felt against his. He has no idea what Harlan really wants from him, but there's one thing he does know for sure: he's not getting any work done today.


End file.
